


Wolf's Birthday

by Disaster_Lady



Category: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, Let's pretend Aldstone is Sydney's Butler, M/M, Payday Secret Santa, The whole freaking gang is here, and people do live in the safe house
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 23:52:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9044741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disaster_Lady/pseuds/Disaster_Lady
Summary: Hoxton thinks throwing his boyfriend a surprise birthday party should be easy, but the planning soon gets complicated with the rest of the gang’s help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A very Merry Payday Christmas to you all! This is 2016's gift to Desevera, who is the biggest Wolf/Hoxton fan I know!
> 
> Enjoy!

He didn’t remember where he got the idea, but after failing to come up with something good to give or to do, Hoxton decided to throw Wolf a surprise party for his birthday. His boyfriend liked the unexpected and Hoxton enjoyed watching Wolf get excited about new things.

For his own birthday, Wolf has set fireworks off behind the old safe house, blasting the Sex Pistols’ _Anarchy in the UK_ , while attempting to sing along to it in his very Wolf-like way. Hoxton had found the whole thing hilarious, and, not that he would let anyone other than Wolf know, touching.

Still, it was hard to plan a surprise party when you shared a confined space with your significant other.

Wolf snored gently next to him in the twin bed. Hoxton lay awake, scribbling on a notepad, trying to list possible party supplies and ideas. It would have been easier to get up and work in the common areas, but the heat wasn’t working in their tiny shared room, and Hoxton was feeling lazy. Better to stay where he felt snug.

A party would need food.

Decorations.

Gifts.

And of course a fucking cake.

“What are you doing?” Wolf asked sleepily. He adjusted himself on the bed, wrapping himself up with Hoxton.

“Nothing.” He tossed the notebook to the side and turned to face Wolf.

“That didn’t look like nothing,” he said, getting cozier.

“How about this? It’s nothing that you need to worry about.” To make his point, Hoxton kissed the top of Wolf’s bald head.

“Why do you need to…” his sentence faded off as Wolf fell back asleep.

***

“A’right, do you think this is stupid or not?” Hoxton asked Clover.

She sat on the counter, drinking a cup of tea while Hoxton scrambled eggs. Wolf was in the shower, giving him the privacy to consult with Clover.

“I don’t, it could be fun. But be careful.”

“What the fuck do I need to be careful about?”

Clover raised an eyebrow.

“Just make sure you don’t bite off more than you can chew.”

Hoxton flicked eggs at her.

“It’s a bloody birthday party. It’s not fucking rocket science.”

“I know that, but you have a habit of going overboard with things sometimes,” said Clover, brushing the eggs away.

“I do not!”

 

While Hoxton had been content to keep the planning to himself for the time being, news of the impending party spread around the crew. Clover mentioned it to Bonnie, and she must have blabbed.

Dallas was the first to bother him about it. Wolf was luckily nowhere in sight when he did.

“A surprise party, huh? Who are you inviting?”

“Excuse me! I am the one in charge of the guest list!” Just because Dallas was the leader of the gang it did not mean that he was going to take over the party planning.

“I’m asking cause of the security risk.”

“That’s my job,” shouted Clover from across the living room.

“I know,” said Dallas deferentially, “But I think it’s a decent question.”

Hoxton on the other hand thought it an obvious question.

“All of us obviously, even your stupid brother.”

 

Dallas would not be the last person to asking him about the impending surprise party. A part of Hoxton was happy that Wolf was popular enough with the rest of the crew to have them want to help out. The other was annoyed that they were encroaching in on his gift. They could bugger off and get their own.  But just to make things easier, Hoxton decided to gather everyone and delegate jobs that he didn’t want to do.

But first, he had to get Wolf out of the safe house. He was starting to get suspicious that Hoxton was up to something sneaky. The day before the impending party, Wolf cornered him.

“What are you doing?”  He spun around the corner to their room, just as Hoxton had been hiding a Party City catalog in Dallas’ office.

He jumped in surprise. “Jesus! You wanna give me a heart attack?”

“No. But you’re acting funny lately.”

“I thought I was always funny,” smirked Hoxton.

Wolf scowled, an expression Hoxton always found unfortunately amusing. “Funnier than usual.”

“I’m not doing anything!”

“You sure?” Wolf looked up at Hoxton, with a now sugary smile. He placed a warm hand on Hoxton’s stomach, while the other reached for his belt.

Hoxton blushed.

“You’re not gonna fucking seduce it outta me!” He swatted Wolf’s hands away.

“Aw,” said Wolf, disappointed. “It would have been fun to try.”

 

Lucky for Hoxton, Jacket, of all people, had offered to take Wolf out somewhere while he got the party ready.

“ _Did you know once a wolf has found a mate, they usually stay together for life_ ,” his cassette player voice listed.

Hoxton felt his ears tinge. He wondered if Jacket was teasing him, or was capable of teasing.

“Whatever, just don’t do anything stupid. Just bring him back by eight.”

However, there were two problems with that.

As much as Hoxton loved Wolf, he had to admit that he was unbalanced. Hoxton could handle his boyfriend’s mental issues but never forgot they existed. There was no way, he or anyone else in the crew would let both Wolf and Jacket, a baseball bat wielding maniac, go out by themselves. That was asking for a disaster and several dismembered bodies, not the best start for a surprise party.

Luckily, it was remedied by press-ganging Sokol into playing babysitter.

“I do not think this good idea. I have only two hands,” he said concerned.

Hoxton did his best to assure him. “You’ll be fine, just give me a call if it goes wrong. And you’re not going to do that cause fucking nothing is going to go wrong. Right?”

“I will hope so.”

Wolf was under the impression that Sokol was taking him and Jacket to a Washington Capitals game as an early birthday present.

“Why don’t you want to go,” Wolf asked Hoxton.

“Hockey’s a fucking girl’s game. You like the cold and violence, you’ll have fun!” Hoxton wrapped a thick red scarf around Wolf’s neck.

“Oh okay,” he said, a bit defeated.

The moment the door shut and the three were off to the game, Hoxton let out a huge breath of air. Now he could work openly. To make himself look more official, Hoxton put on a pink apron that had Piss off Wanker embroidered on it. Wolf gave it to him last Christmas.

“Since all of you want to help, I’ve decided to delegate.”

The majority of the crew was in on the surprise by this point, and they gathered in the common area awaiting Hoxton’s instructions.

“Are you now,” said Houston.

“Careful now, I’m the one picking people for jobs.” He’d make the twat scrub the toilets, that always needed doing.

Clover stood next to him, a notepad and pen in her hands.

“So what needs to get done,” asked Dallas.

“Food, decorations, cleaning, Wolf, Jacket, and Sokol will be back here at eight. Everything had damn well better be done.”

“Any volunteers?” said Clover, tapping the pen in expectation.

“Oh you’re the best Girl Friday a man could ask for,” Hoxton said, casually slinging an arm around her shoulders.

“Do you want streamers and shit?” asked Chains. “Cause I wanna do that.”

“Done!” Hoxton pointed at him.

“I’ll go with him,” said Dallas.

Clover wrote them down.

“What’s going on?”

Sydney came in from the garage, blue hair bouncing as she did. Hoxton would admit that he hadn’t noticed that she was absent, despite the fact that Sydney was hard to miss.

“Planning a surprise party, so keep that loud mouth of yours shut,” said Hoxton.

“A party,” squealed Sydney, “I love parties!”

“It’s for Wolf,” interrupted Bonnie.

“I’m giving assignments.”

“Can I make the cake?” begged Sydney, her hands clasped in front of her face. “Please? I’d make the best fucking cake ever! Please, Hoxton please. Please?”

“Jesus, quit your whining. Yeah, make the fucking cake. It better be chocolate.” Sydney was weird and artistic. Hoxton had seen her masks. If the cake was as well thought out as they were, it was in good hands.

“Yay!” Sydney jumped on Hoxton, giving him a constricting hug. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

Clover bit back a grin. Luckily for Hoxton, she pried Sydney off of him.

“Whatever, don’t make it too elaborate.”

“Hey Sydney,” said Bodhi, with a nod. “Wanna let me help?”

The idea was offensive to her.

“Ugh, I don’t want ya coming with me, ya drongo.” With that said, she skipped away apparently off to get supplies.

“Speaking of food, can anyone here cook, and not burn the fucking safe house down?” Hoxton was one to talk, as he was the one to set the old on fire. That old heap had it coming, and he would not let the same happen to the new one.

“I’m your woman,” said Bonnie. “I’ve fed fucking armies!”

Hoxton trusted her not to destroy the kitchen.

“Anyone want to clean?”

Wick raised his hand.

The remainder of the crew was divided up. Dragan decided help Bonnie, Jiro begrudgingly agreed to have Bodhi come with him to buy gifts. The older man looked as though he wanted to stick his katana through his companion.

“What about me?” asked Houston, as everyone started to get up to do their jobs.

“Sorry wanker, I forgot. You can tidy up with Wick.”

“Do I really gotta clean the safe house,” said Houston skeptically. “We have Aldstone to do that for us.”

“You afraid of doing real work, wanker?” Hoxton said with a sneer “I told Aldstone to fuck off back to _Downton Abbey_ or wherever the hell he came from.”

Sydney was already an odd duck without bring some posh servant with her. Besides, it weirded Hoxton out to hear another English accent around the safe house.

Houston grumbled and took the mop Wick gave him.

Now that everyone was doing exactly what he wanted, Hoxton stood for a moment in silent satisfaction.

“Do you think you should ask the other two,” said Clover, her voice bringing him back to reality.

“Do I have to?” Besides Sydney, there had been other notable absences.

“It would be nice?” She shrugged.

He opened his mouth to ask when were they ever nice to each other, then remembered that a house full of criminals was running around trying to throw a birthday party for one of their own. The hypocrisy was obvious.

Hoxton leaned into the garage to speak to Rust. He was not afraid of the biker, but he would be bloody stupid if he tried to piss him off.

“Do you want to help?”

“No,” he growled, and the biker stomped off to the basement. The man mostly kept to himself and this trend was continuing with Wolf’s birthday.

“Rust won’t be contributing,” he announced to Clover.

Hoxton then went to the so called “bar,” to speak to Jimmy.

Since he had in more than a few words called him ugly, Hoxton was not the biggest fan of Jimmy. But as a member of the crew, he probably should ask for his help anyway. To be sociable, you know.

Jimmy was flopped over the bar, as usual, cocaine splattered all over him.

“You wanna bartend the party?” Hoxton asked. If he didn’t want to, Bonnie would likely be happy to do so herself.

Jimmy merely went, “eh,” and a puff of coke wafted into air.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

***

The afternoon was well underway and five hours remained until Wolf returned. So far it was going as Hoxton wanted.

Luckily Sydney was prompt with her supply run and was able to get her cake in the oven before Bonnie and Dragan demanded its use for cooking.

Most of Hoxton’s time had been spent wandering around the safe house, making sure everyone was doing their jobs. Bodhi texted him incessantly, sending photos of prospective gifts, trying to make sure they were sensible. Hoxton eventually got tired of pandering to Bodhi’s indecision and passed his phone to Clover when the text alert went off.

Eventually he found himself sitting on the sofa, absentmindedly petting Rosie who had gotten tired of following Wick around while he cleaned.

“Hey Hoxton, do you wanna see the cake?” Sydney leaned down from the second floor.

“It better be good,” said Hoxton.

She lead him over to the kitchen table were a small three tiered cake sat. Splotches of purple and green frosting covered it, while she had written _HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY WOLFIE!_  on it in giant blue letters.

“What d’ya think?” Sydney asked, eager for praise.

“I-I like it,” said Hoxton. It was way better than whatever he could have come up with. And blue was Wolf’s favorite color.

“YAY!” shouted Sydney. “I told you, I’d do a good job.”

Hoxton smiled to himself. Delegation had worked. Dessert was a chore that he did not have to do himself.

As for the other people occupying the kitchen, Bonnie and Dragan appeared back from the grocery store with what Hoxton hoped was more than enough food. Bonnie was grilling steaks on the stove (that woman had better not cook them into charcoal), and Dragan stewed vegetables in a dish that he did not recognize.

“It can’t stay here, Dragan and I need space,” said Bonnie, waving a meat cleaver towards the cake.

“Put it in the office or something,” added Dragan.

Sydney happily moved her creation to Dallas’s desk.

Dallas and Chains returned, calling Hoxton down to look at what they brought back.

“Okay, so we got some stuff, paper plates, party hats and that kinda shit” said Dallas. “We found to a store where they make custom banners. Pretty fucking neat.”

He and Chains opened up the largest bag and held it up between them.

“So what d’you think man,” asked Chains.

Hoxton looked at it for a moment, happy with the selection Dallas and Chains made. Then his eyes picked up a mistake.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me!” said Hoxton.  “It says _Happy Birthday Woof_ on it!”

“It does not!” defended Dallas, offended that his contribution was wrong.

Chains groaned, “Aw shit it does.”

“I can’t believe you spelled his bloody name wrong!” Of all of the obvious errors to make, this was the stupidest one.

“I know how to spell his fucking name,” said Dallas. “The idiot who made this got it wrong.”

“I wrote it down and I know I got it right.” Chains reached over and smacked the banner.

“Oh my god you numpties, you just paint over it,” said Clover, as if it was the most obvious thing.

“It might look fucking stupid!” whined Hoxton.

A high pitch scream interrupted the conversation.

“It’s upstairs,” said Clover.

Hoxton and Clover ran up the steps to the kitchen and into the office, finding Sydney still shrieking in agony. Rosie was standing on the desk, happily eating the side of Wolf’s cake, her snout covered in frosting.

“Ah fuck,” sighed Hoxton.

Clover took charge and hauled the dog away, wagging her tail at the attention.

Sydney looked as though she was about to cry.

“...All my hard work. It’s gone! My beautiful cake!” she wailed.

Realizing too late where his dog had wandered off to, Wick came into the office, cringing when he saw the current disaster.

“Shit.”

“She ruined it,” cried Sydney. Clover wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders, doing her best to calm the other woman down.

“Was it chocolate?” he asked.

“Yes,

“Um, I’m going to take Rosie to the vet.” Wick awkwardly wiped the remaining frosting from his dog’s face. “She’s usually better behaved.”

Hoxton, not knowing what more to say, merely wished that Rosie would not be too sick. Getting mad at Wick would not help a damn thing. He was busy cleaning the safe house, as Hoxton asked him to do.

“What about my cake,” sniffled Sydney.

Having heard the commotion from the office, Bonnie poked her head in.

“Don’t cry love, you can still save this. You just cut off the doggie slobber bits and frost over it.” She prodded the cake with a kitchen knife. Hoxton hoped it wasn’t the one she had sliced raw steak with.

“Let’s be honest, I don’t think Wolf will give a fuck,” said Clover.

“You sure,” asked Sydney, glancing at Hoxton expectantly.

The cake would be lopsided and part of it was now in a canine stomach. It certainly wasn’t  what he wanted to give to Wolf, but it was the thought that counted.

“He’ll probably think it’s funny.”

***

It was nearly seven in the evening and preparations were nearly complete. The safe house was clean, Houston grumbling that he had to do it by himself after Wick left for the vet. Dallas and Chains took Clover’s advice and painted over the extra “O.” The banner hung across the living room under the disco ball. They also ran streamers all over the rest of the safe house. Hoxton distributed party hats and demanded everyone wear one.

The mismatched pair of Jiro and Bodhi bought a stack of gifts. Hoxton eagerly went through the pile. He hadn’t given much shopping advice, besides getting that would be considered interesting. Jiro picked Wolf some new clothes, a shiny blue pocket knife, a set of power tools, and a box of chocolates.  Bodhi thought himself hilarious for buying a bag of Swedish Fish for Wolf to eat.

Hoxton rolled his eyes.

The smell of Bonnie and Dragan’s cooking filled the rooms. The dinner was set out buffet style on the kitchen table. Hoxton told Bonnie to use the paper plates, Dallas and Chains brought. Who wants to fucking do dishes after a party. He sure didn’t

Wick and Rosie came back, the dog now on a leash.

“Is there anything else that needs getting done,” said Dallas, flopping onto the sofa, party hat slightly askew.

“According to my notes,” said Clover, “We are good!”

“Fucking great job lads and uh ladies,” Hoxton said, grinning wide. He doubled checked his watch. “We have about an hour before they get back. We can relax.”

His phone started to ring. Sokol’s number was on the screen.

“What!” Hoxton said sharply.

“We left early,” said Sokol in a slight panic. “Wolf and Jacket were getting too excited by the hockey fights.”

“How far away are you?”

“Five minutes!  I stop at gas station. I’m hiding in the bathroom. You don’t want them seeing me call you!” Sokol’s call was interrupted by someone banging on the door. “I go now!”

The line went dead.

“They’re coming like right fucking now!” Hoxton ripped his obscene apron off. “Holy fuck I need to change, I feel like a bum!”

“You look great to me,” said Houston.

“WANKER!”

The rest of the gang found places to hide, while Hoxton flung himself into a suit as fast as humanly possible.

He ran back downstairs, trying to find a place to hide that wasn’t already taken. Clover beckoned him over to where she knelt behind the sofa.

“Hox, you fucked up your tie big time,” she hissed.

Hoxton complained quietly about getting strangled by her as she straightened his tie. Clover told him to stop being a fucking baby.

A car rolled into the driveway.

“This is it,” said Chains.

Car doors shut and footsteps hit against concrete. Hoxton peered nervously around the sofa, trying to take a peek at Wolf.

The guest of honor entered the safe house.

“SURPRISE!” Hoxton leaped up waving his arms in joy. The others echoed his welcome with less coordination, but just as much enthusiasm.

Wolf yelped in shock and landed ass-first on the floor.

“ _Do you know what time it is?...Party time!_ ” said Jacket.

“Congratulations!” said Sokol.

Hoxton, trying to be an attentive boyfriend, helped Wolf back up to his feet.

“Happy Birthday Wolfie, this is all for you!”

“Really?”

“We even got a banner that says so,” said Dallas.

Wolf looked around at his party, awestruck.

“I-I love it!” His big blue eyes started to tear.

“Gah, don’t you get mushy on me!” said Hoxton.

Wolf stood on his tippy toes and gave him a kiss. Someone dog whistled, Bonnie being the most likely offender.

“I don’t know what to say, my birthday’s not till tomorrow,” said Wolf.

“That’s why it’s a surprise! What do you wanna do first?”

Houston walked over and put a party hat on his head.

“How about food?”

 

The party was what Hoxton would consider an uneventful success. The safe house survived the night, no one got hurt, and most importantly, Wolf had a good time.

He gobbled his steak down, pleased that it was as rare as he wanted. Sydney’s repaired cake was a hit, and true to his nature, he found the story of Rosie getting in it to be funny. Wolf loved all of his gifts and to Bodhi’s luck, he immediately started eating the Swedish Fish. The rest of the evening devolved into drinking and storytelling. But shortly after two a.m., the rest of the crew went their separate ways, leaving Hoxton and Wolf alone on the sofa.

“How can I even thank you for this?” Wolf’s head rested in Hoxton’s lap, a fluffy throw blanket wrapped around him.

Hoxton shook his head. “You don’t gotta thank me, you having a fun time was as much thanks as I needed.”

“You mean it?”

“Of course I bloody mean it, I love you!” Hoxton gave Wolf’s shoulder a shake.

Wolf sighed contentedly.

“I have no clue what I’ll do for your next birthday. You’ve set the standards too high.”

Hoxton laughed. “I’m sure whatever the fuck you do will be interesting, cause you’re always interesting.”

He waited for Wolf to respond, but he started snoring instead. Hoxton smiled.

 

**Author's Note:**

> It was fun writing with some of the characters who are not in my other work.
> 
> The Washington Capitals are the local D.C. Hockey Team. I bet Sokol wished he was out playing with them.


End file.
